


Kahulugan ng Isang Bilang (Definition of A Number)

by BrainlessGenius



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders And Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Is A Good Friend, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders is a Good Brother, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Failing Grades, Filipino AU, Filipino Character, Filipino Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Filipino Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrainlessGenius/pseuds/BrainlessGenius
Summary: Roman Delos Reyes is greeted with failed grade after failed grade in his college classes, especially in a class he shares with his brother, Remus. Remus tries telling Roman that perhaps there’s a deeper underlying reason for his failing marks, but Roman refuses to accept it.A fill for the prompt request "Logan or Roman with failing grades"
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Kahulugan ng Isang Bilang (Definition of A Number)

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning/s:** Mature language (swearing), A bit of Remus-nature jokes (dicks, butts, death, getting off, all in passing), self-deprecating thoughts. Please _please_ tell me if I left anything out.
> 
> **IMPORTANT NOTES!!**
> 
> 1\. Code-switching is normal and absolutely common. In fact, Tagalog and English are the two major languages in the country and its hybrid-- Taglish is very widely used!! **_Translations will be put in “[ ]” directly after the sentences._**
> 
> 2\. The College grading system works differently. **1.00** is the highest, **3.00** is the passing mark, and **5.00** means you’re absolutely fucked.
> 
> 3\. Courses inclined towards the arts are unfortunately looked down upon by a lot of Filipino parents because “it doesn’t bring in a lot of money.” People in situations like the one Roman finds himself in below is very common.
> 
> 4\. Since it will be mentioned later-- _lugaw_ is a sort of rice porridge. Very common staple dish here. _Jejemon_ is like our version of fuckbois or something with their own language and fashion sense and shiz. If you search it up on the internet I promise you won’t be disappointed.

The first time he fails an exam, Roman doesn’t even pay it much mind. 

His score is only a few points under the passing grade and it’s only the first exam. It isn’t a hard score to catch up to, especially with a multitude of exams more along the way. With plenty of chances ahead, Roman tells himself he’ll “do better next time” and goes back to his pile of schoolwork to accomplish.

He simply has to try harder for the next one and ace the following exam. Easy enough.

He thinks he did better for the second exam. He swears he felt like he answered most of the items correctly. He was expecting no less than an 80%  _ at least  _ with how much he studied and how little he slept.

He precisely hits the passing mark; to the dot. Any normal college student will have celebrated that fact, grateful for the cliffhanger-almost-failing-but-not-really,  _ passing  _ grade. But not Roman. He does the math in his head. A failing exam and a borderline passing one still adds up to a failed grade. It is hard to ignore the sighs of relief from some of the students around him, and even harder to dismiss the small yelps of success from the remaining few. 

The hardest one to discount is his own twin brother just across the room, eyes crinkling at the corners as he receives his own paper back. Half of Roman feels the reflexive sort of happiness for his brother, like any decent sibling should. The other half however feels nothing but saltiness at Remus’ wide smile and the way he only glances at his paper for a few seconds. Clearly no overthinking, no worries involved.

To be honest, he doesn’t even understand how they still happen to share a class despite Remus taking up Film and Roman taking up Engineering. With such drastically different majors one would think they’d rarely even meet on campus. Not to get Roman wrong, he doesn’t necessarily mind the very,  _ very  _ few classes they happen to have together as Remus’s presence is tolerable at most. Yet sometimes it’s precisely that happy-go-lucky demeanor, that carefree act that nags at Roman for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on.

When Remus shoots him an energetic wave and a disgustingly bright smile, it pains Roman to smile back. But he does so convincingly, like the actor he knows he is. Or should be. 

If he had taken Theater instead of this hellish course maybe he would be.

In his room he goes over his test paper again and again. His frustration grows with every red circle on the paper and he finds himself muttering an almost inaudible “stupid” or “idiot” with every ridiculously  _ simple  _ mistake. He runs through it over and over while asking where he possibly could have gone wrong, only for him to smack himself lightly on the forehead when he realizes that the answer to his question is simply right there in front of him. 

But he still shrugs off the irritation anyway and yanks the paper out of his sight, determined to once again do better next time. He does the calculations once more and forcibly amps himself up for another few sleepless nights. He bemoans the sure exhaustion bound to plague him but thinks of how this will only last until the next examination. He merely needs to get an exceptionally high score, do well with the assignments, and keep it up until the semester ends.

Piece of cake.

When Remus comes in through their dorm’s door minutes later, exhausted but somehow still energetic after a few hours of camera angle practice, Roman acts as if he wasn’t just beating himself up over a single piece of paper.

“Hey, Ro. Looks like Prof Montayo isn’t so bad, even if they’re one cranky fucker,” he says, heading straight to the mini-fridge to drink juice straight from the carton. “Ilan nakuha mo ro’n?” [What score did you get?]

Roman hesitates, the sour  _ 3.00  _ still fresh in his mind. “You first, Rem.”

Remus smiles as he slams the fridge shut, jumping onto the seat beside Roman and slamming his paper on the desk. A large, red “1.00” lands in front of Roman, and he swallows down the thick bitterness rising up his throat.

Beside him, Remus snickers, breaking out into a slightly cracking rendition of Frozen’s “For the First Time in Forever” while he sways exaggeratedly on his seat.  _ “For the first time in foreveeeer // Naka-uno si ateng~” [For the first time in foreveeeer // This hoe just got a ‘one’~] _

Roman half-playfully, half-annoyingly smashes his palm against Remus’s face, shutting him up effectively. “You? Getting an uno [one] in Math? Come on.” He playfully leans in closer to Remus and drops down to a whisper. “You can tell me, Rem. How much did you pay our prof?”

Remus gasps dramatically, putting a hand to his chest. “Me? Bribing the prof? I wouldn’t do such a thing!” He carefully places the paper back in his bag. “Listen, Montayo may be hot but eh, not my type.”

Roman grimaces. “Kadiri amp--” [Gross as hell--]

Remus giggles and stands, rummaging around for anything left over he can have for dinner. “‘Di mo pa sinasagot tanong ko eh. Ilan ka?” [You didn’t answer my question yet, though. What did you get?]

Roman sets down a pen and rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. It’s a 1.5. You’re higher than me. Happy now?” He feels the slightest twinge of guilt announcing a score that’s twice as high as what he actually got. But he cannot just tell Remus about his score; not when Remus himself has borne witness to Roman’s sparkling line of 9’s in his report cards since grade school.

Roman has absolutely no reason to be breaking his high grade streak now.

Remus looks at him funny and for a while Roman thinks he’s caught on to him. He realizes he’s safe when Remus shrugs and slaps him on the back with a “Cool!” before he’s flopping down on the dorm’s bed, sketchbook and pencil out and active.

Roman wills away the envy rising in him as he remains on the desk, trying to calculate angles and areas and volumes of painstakingly complex figures. A split-second thought about the play the drama org is holding tonight grazes his mind but he pushes it away as quickly as it came.

Focus. That’s what Ma and Pa always says. These are just silly careless mistakes. He just needs to focus.

He works extra hard after that. Roman’s nights become saturated with draining calculus worksheets and pages upon pages of readings to accomplish. He learns to tune out Remus’s reminders and ‘tsks’ for him to go to sleep or take a break, staying up later than his twin almost every consequent night despite Remus coming home later. He sets his mind on one thing and one thing only, aiming for a golden medal at the end of the track. Or even just the bronze medal.

He becomes willing to sacrifice every ounce of energy and wink of shut eye in favor of burying his head deep into a book and burning through folders and envelopes of papers. Of course he knows that this routine he picked up on is not the healthiest thing to practice. But no one arrives at the peak of the Almighty Everest with a heavy load. Sometimes the load one has to let go of is themselves. 

Within that time Roman finds himself exhausted, sleep-deprived, and more irritated than Narcissus without a mirror. Consequently, he also finds how a few other assignments and outputs from an assortment of subjects are getting grades lower than he expects. During those days he comes home with a shroud of dissatisfaction and a cloak of silence hanging over him. At times he’ll have Remus pulling him off his ass to journey out the door with him, to which he only responds with an angry grunt and an irked march back to his desk

When Remus suggests that perhaps the grades are a result of his “soul-sucking, energy-leeching, borderline stupid routine,” Roman pays him no mind and merely dismisses him. The word “stupid” strikes Roman in a different way but he waves it off. He’s told himself that plenty; he does not need to be reminded of the fact again. He doesn’t entertain the possibility of overexertion despite Remus’s comments. If anything, he may not be giving enough. Maybe he’s not trying hard enough. Perhaps he still has not given his all and needs even more of a push.

And he does. He shields his eyes from Remus’s small but multiple successes and plugs his ears from the other’s expressions of concern and attempts at communication.

It takes another few risky scores before Roman gets hit with the debilitating realization that he may not even be fighting for the medal anymore. He may just as well be fighting for the finish line, and he fears he may not even make it. Though it pains him, he admits to himself that he is no longer running towards the light at the end of the tunnel, but rather running from the dark behind him. No longer for achievement, but for  _ survival. _

Another sleepless night finally gets Remus sitting up in bed with a groan of frustration, squinting at the annoyingly bright light from Roman’s lamp and huffing at the sound of Roman’s incoherent murmurs as he scans over his notes for probably the hundredth time. Or at least Roman assumes that’s what’s happening. His gaze remains transfixed on the laptop and notebook open before him. Then he hears a few heavy footsteps before his lamp is prematurely being cut off. Roman turns it back on quickly with a noise of disagreement to be met with an annoyed scowl from his twin.

“Remus, ano ba--?!” [Remus, what the hell--?!]

“Ro, for the last few nights I’ve slept to you still awake and  _ woken up  _ to you either not in the damned dorm or half-passed out on the same fucking desk.”

Roman looks away from Remus, turning pages to find where he stopped. “My exam is tomorrow. Wala ka nang pake doon--” [My exam is tomorrow. That’s none of your concern--]

Remus angrily slams the notebook shut and twirls the wooden chair to face him, unminding for the loud scrape of the wood against the painted cement of the floor. “My god, Ro. Does self-neglect get you off or some shit? You of all people should know that what you’re doing is gonna end up with you half-dead or even  _ dead  _ on our cold, filthy floor.”

Roman winces at that. “You don’t understand, Rem. Kailangan ko ‘tong gawin kasi kung hindi babagsak ako--” [You don’t understand, Rem. I have to do this ‘cause if I don’t I’m going to fail--]

Remus scoffs. “At tingin mo naman sa ginagawa mong kabulastugan sa sarili mo ‘di ka lalo babagsak?” [And you think with this nonsense you’re doing to yourself you won’t fail even more?]

Roman quickly runs a hand through his unkempt hair out of fatigue-laced annoyance. “You won’t get it, Remus, just let me be--”

“What is there not to get?! At least I’m still wise enough to not work my dick and ass off to the point of--” he gestures to the entirety of Roman. “--whatever the hell state you’re in.”

Roman glares at him. “‘Cause you don’t  _ need  _ to work your ‘dick and ass off.’ Kabi-kabila yung matataas mong grado na wala kang iniaangat na iisang daliri man lang!” [Cause you don’t  _ need  _ to work your ‘dick and ass off.’ You’re getting high grades left and right without even lifting a finger!]

For a second Roman swears he sees a pinch of hurt glinting off Remus’ eyes, until Remus speaks again in a slightly softer tone. “Then let me help you--”

“Papasa ako, andiyan ka man o wala. Mapapanindigan ko ‘tong letseng kursong to.” [I’ll pass with or without you. I’m going to finish this course even if it kills me.] Then he looks Remus dead in the eye, his last bouts of lucidness dissolving from him to make way for a light-headed sense of rage. “Hindi ko kailangan ng tulong mo.” [I don’t need your help.]

When he sees the bruised look in his brother hiding behind a uselessly thin screen of anger, Roman knows he feels instant regret. His remaining pearls of rationality encourage him to open his mouth and apologize, but Remus already lets go of the chair’s arms and listlessly walks back to the bed. 

He half-clambers back into his thin blanket, turning to face away from the desk. “Goodluck on our test, Ro. Night.”

Roman can’t answer back. 

But he has no time to dwell on such unfortunate altercations; not when one of his last chances at a passing grade is tomorrow. Rather, later. The hands of the clock ticking past 12 almost slips past him. Their dispute already drained any sleepiness out of him anyway, so Roman simply goes back to read over his notes once more, hopping back and forth from his screen to his notebook.

He tells himself that he will reward himself with rest once he gets this exam over and done with. For now, he charges through the night holding sleep hostage, not to be set free until his grades have been replenished.

Remus does not acknowledge him before going out for his first class, and Roman clears his mind of anything regarding Remus.

During the exam, Roman takes note of how many items he struggles with, how many he guesses, and how many he gets right. At some point the counters for each blur into each other so he just gives up keeping track. He feels like he’s answering enough to pull him out of the ditch he’s in and holds onto it. He believes in that fact even as he submits his paper in front, almost not making it to the time limit. He ignores how Remus finishes before him and how he still does not say a word.

Indeed, Roman does fulfill his self-pact. After all his classes, he falls asleep on the top bunk before Remus arrives, succumbing to an uneasy slumber plagued with dread regarding his score and a plethora of negative feelings regarding Remus.

It doesn’t feel like he gained anything back when he wakes up the next morning, Remus already out of the dorm once again. There’s a bag of cold  _ lugaw  _ on the table and a small bottle of  _ Royal _ . There’s a sticky note on the bottle saying  _ “In case nasunog utak mo.”  _ [ _ In case your brain got fried. _ ] Perhaps something Remus brought home last night. Another wave of guilt runs through him at the gesture despite their little disagreement. Roman is not sure whether accepting the food makes things worse or better between them, yet the rumbling in his stomach makes him hope for the latter. 

He heats it up quickly, making sure it’s not actually spoiled, then eats it. It’s mediocre at best, most likely something Rem bought from Manong Raul a few blocks down. It’s enough to get him to school alert enough to sit in class with a slightly terror-stricken face, obviously anxious to receive his score. He dares shoot a few looks to Remus across the room, but Rem never looks back.

When he receives his paper, it takes all of his self-control not to break down right in the middle of the class. And no, he does not look at how Remus receives his. He’s sure that so much as a glance will only distress him even further than he already is.

He failed. Again. 

The entire day passes by as a vignette-filtered montage of classes he only half pays attention to, his expression remaining one way all throughout. At home, he ignores his desk and goes straight up to the top bunk, lying on it facing the ceiling, just allowing the millions of thoughts careening through his head to thrive.

He tries to process what exactly it is he’s feeling right now. He considers sadness and dejection, but the weight on his chest that usually comes with it is not there. He tries envisaging whether it’s anger, but there is a significant lack of the burning under his veins and that uncontrollable urge to lash out in his mind. Perhaps it’s exhaustion, except that he’s certain that he’s very much awake right now, consciousness too active to even think about a moment of peace.

Hopelessness feels like it hits the target a little better. Indeed, Roman does feel like nothing else is there to save him from his academic misery, yet there’s still the tiniest speck of hope hanging dangerously off a cliff. It’s telling him that there’s still the finals, and that if he aces that he’ll maybe barely make it through the semester.

Then again, if he failed the first ones, how the hell will he do at the  _ finals _ ?

And it’s not as if his other subjects are showing signs of a sparkling uno too. Heck, his actual course itself is not looking too promising, with his every activity just always barely making the cut as well, or sometimes lower. After a bit more soul-searching, he realizes that he feels… nothing. Absolutely nothing-- oh.

Emptiness. He feels empty. Like any and all point of even doing this has just flown past him and abandoned him; like his will finally decided Roman wasn’t worth it so it just packed up and left. He’s still in his t-shirt and jeans, eyes trained on the noisy, rotating ceiling fan, body doing absolutely nothing as it lays face-up on the still-messy bed, feeling as if there is not a single organ or muscle in him.

Empty.

He doesn't even move when the door clicks open, even though he already knows who it is. He hears the footsteps stop by the edge of the bed and becomes aware of the familiar, brown face and recognizable pattern of facial hair from the corner of his eyes.

He only sighs and resigns himself to the conversation bound to happen.

“Well, feeling ko naman alam ko na ano nangyari.” [Well, I have a feeling I already know what happened.]

Roman turns to face away from Remus, his outfit proving uncomfortable in the heat of the dorm. “Why? What did you get?”

He hears Remus shuffling behind him, presumably to get out of his own long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants and into his usual tank top and shorts. “Roman, you don’t need to know what I got--”

He speaks with a bit more aggression. “Ano nga?” [What is it?]

Remus sighs, arms coming to dangle on the railing of Roman’s bunk from where he’s standing beside it. “Fine. 1.5.”

Roman laughs bitterly. “See? I didn’t even see you prepare for the thing but here you are with a passing grade. I pour my heart out and get a 3.25.”

The railing creaks behind Roman. “Eh sabi ko naman kasi sa’yo hindi makakatulong yung pagpupuyat na ginagawa mo eh--” [I told you staying up all night wouldn’t help--]

Roman turns and faces the ceiling again in a one swift motion. “Oo na nga, katangahan na nga yung ginawa ko. ‘Wag mo na ipamudmod sa’kin na tanga ako.” [Alright, already. I already know that what I did was a dumb thing. You don’t have to rub my sheer, obvious stupidity all over my face.]

There’s another short but swift sigh. “Ro, I never said you were stupid--”

“You don’t have to say it.” Roman looks at Remus for the first time since he entered. “I know it.”

Agitation is evident on Remus when Roman says this. He pulls his arms down from the railing and rubs his hand repeatedly through his black, messy hair, walking around the room as he does. “Hindi ka tanga, Ro. Kita mo nga, buong grade school hanggang high school naten nasa honors ka. Bihirang-bihira pa magka-line of eight. Pareho nating alam na di ka bobo.” [You’re not stupid, Ro. Throughout the entirety of our grade school and high school you were part of the honor roll. You rarely got a grade below 90. We both know you’re not stupid--]

Roman sits up, ruffling the thin sheets below him. “That was before! If it isn’t obvious yet, tanga na ko ngayon. Babagsak na ko, Rem.” [That was before! If it isn’t obvious yet, I’m dumber than an empty can now. I’m about to fail, Rem.]

“Hindi mo naman ako pinapatapos eh!” [You’re not letting me finish!]

Roman shuts up at the outburst, staring at Remus from where he’s standing by the foot of the bed in their studio-type dorm. He raises his eyebrows at Rem, signaling him to go ahead and finish his point.

Remus comes closer, resting his arms yet again on the railing by the foot of the bed. “Hindi ka tanga. Nasa maling kurso ka lang.” [You’re not stupid. You’re just in the wrong course.]

Roman blinks then snorts at Remus. “ _ Excuse me,  _ Remus, but Engineering is one of the best courses this university offers--”

“Yeah, I know that.” Remus looks at him, unamused. “Pero gusto mo ba?” [But do you like it?]

Huh. Externally, Roman knows his face isn’t really doing anything. Internally, however, he knows he’s laughing at himself. Hysterically. Because there,  _ right there _ , is the same question Roman has been asking himself all this time. 

Does he like this? 

And Roman knows the answer to that question. He just won’t accept it.

In front of him, Remus smirks. His chin comes to rest on his arms which are still on the railing. The position is probably not too comfortable. “Ano, tahimik ka noh? Asintado ko noh?” [Got you to shut up, didn’t I? Did I hit the bullseye?]

“Rem, that’s out of the question--”

Remus’s eyes go wide and his arms shoot out to his sides. “Out of the question?! Ro--” he moves around the bed again, ending up beside the bed and pulling Roman by his sleeve closer to the railing. “Sige, [Fine,] think about this. You’ll graduate Engineering, right? You have no other track to go than to be an Engineer. And this is what you’ll be doing your  _ entire  _ goddamn life, Roman.” Roman simply stares, and Remus stares harder. “Do you really see yourself doing this until you die?”

Whether Roman likes it or not, the image of him on stage, bowing after a curtain call surrounded by the applause of a wide, exuberant audience rings up clearly in his head after Remus’s speech. And it’s exactly that image which scares him. “What I want isn’t practical, Rem.”

“Bro, tingin mo ba yung akin praktikal?” [Bro, and you think mine is?]

A bit of venom runs through Roman’s features, with the majority of it running underneath, heating up the blood in his veins drop by drop. “We’re different, Remus. May kalayaan ka kasing pumili kung ano yung gusto mo.” [We’re different, Remus. You have the freedom to pick what you want.]

The same venom crosses Remus’s expression. “Yeah, magkaiba nga tayo. Pinapanindigan ko kasi yung gusto ko. Hindi kasi ako lumuluhod sa gusto ng magulang ko--” [Yeah, we  _ are  _ different. I actually stand by with what I want. Unlike your weak ass who just kneels at mommy and daddy’s feet to let them drag him around and do what they want--]

“Kasi wala naman silang pake sayo!” [That’s ‘cause they don’t even care about you!]

The same hurt manifests in Remus’s eyes, and the same regret threatens to drown Roman. Remus looks away, but this time, Roman does not keep his mouth shut. Roman swallows the knot in his throat and speaks. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Remus keeps his gaze away from Roman as he blankly drags the desk chair and sits on it, still facing Roman but not meeting his eyes above him.

Roman continues, His eyes stay looking down at his fingers which begin to tap and scratch at the top bunk’s railing. “I just meant that you were an average kid. Not quite excelling but hey, di ka rin bumabagsak. [you weren’t failing either.] They never cared what your grades were or what you did with your time.” The tapping of nails on the slightly rusty metal becomes a welcome background noise. “Walang nag-eexpect sayo ng kahit ano.” [No one expected anything from you.]

Roman pauses to breathe for a few seconds as his former years come crashing back into him. “But things are different with me. I wasn’t an average kid. I have no idea how but apparently I excelled at…  _ everything,  _ I guess _.  _ They’ve always expected so much of me. It’s like you said, ‘Bihira magka-line of eight’. I rarely go below 90.”

Remus finally meets his eyes, the venom still swimming in his irises but with less potency. Roman carries on, head tilting up and looking to the ceiling with an indescribable glaze over his eyes. “And they just… looked up to me. They’re expecting me to do great.” He scoffs. “Let’s be honest, Rem. Yung bata mataas ang grades sa lahat ng subject. As in  _ lahat.  _ Tapos ang kukunin niya  _ Theater? _ ” [Let’s be honest, Rem. A kid gets high marks on every subject.  _ Every single one.  _ Then he’s going to take up  _ Theater? _ ]

The venom in Remus’s eyes morphs into something else. Roman just doesn’t know what yet. “And yeah, tama ka. [you’re right.] You got me. I love theater. I spent more time in drama club during high school than in anything else. I  _ dream  _ of being up on stage, acting out an elaborate scene, hearing the audience clap and cheer, seeing their standing ovation while I’m smiling before the magnificent red curtains.” The wonder in Roman’s voice dies down, along with the starry look in his eyes. “But that’s not what they want. Believe me, I tried talking to them.”

In front of him, the venomous bite in his brother’s expression fades, replaced by a confusing mix of empathy and sympathy.

Roman looks at Remus, the faint shadow of tears forming in the windows to his soul. “At ‘yon, Rem, ang dahilan bakit bumabagsak ako sa kursong di ko gusto samantalang ikaw ang ayos ng buhay sa ginusto mo.” [And that, Rem, is the reason why I’m now failing in a course I never wanted while you’re thriving in one you actually chose] 

Down the window, the drop finally falls, and they both watch as the tear leaves his eye and rolls down his cheek in silence. “Kasi kahit anong gawin mo, tatanggapin nila. Kahit anong gawin ko, laging mapupuna. Hindi mo kailangang pagtrabauhan yung pagmamahal nila. Ako... kailangan ko.” [‘Cause whatever you do, they’ll accept it. Whatever I do will always be criticized. You don’t need to work to prove yourself worthy of their love… but I do.]

Roman’s gaze drops down to the sheets, ashamed to show his tearing face to his own twin brother. But Remus eventually shifts in his own seat, mouth opening and throat clearing. “Sorry. What I said a while ago was probably a shitty thing. That… that isn’t fair to you. Why the hell should you be put to a different standard as me?”

He stands with his hands on his hips, almost knocking the chair over with his force. “At tsaka, ano bang problema nila sa Film? Sa Theater? Kala ba nila walang palag yun sa mga Engineering-Law-Medicine na ‘yan? Ayaw ba nilang makita anak nila na masaya at pinapalakpakan sa stage? O makita yung pangalan ko sa dulo ng pelikula?” [And what even is their problem with Film? With Theater? Do they think these are inferior to those show-offy Engineering-Law-Medicine nonsense? Don’t they want to see their son happy and applauded on stage? Or my name in the end credits of a movie?]

“Well, Rem, we know where they stand--”

“And I’m not standing for it. Ro, ‘di ako papayag na buong buhay mo maiistuck ka sa trabahong ayaw mo. Pareho lang naman tayo may pangarap. Ba’t kailangan maiba ka?” [And I’m not standing for it. Ro, I won’t allow you to become stuck at a job you absolutely hate. We both have dreams, for fuck’s sake. Why do you have to be different?]

“Rem--”

“I’ll talk to them.”

Roman perks up, not quite sure yet whether the sudden suggestion is a good idea. “What?”

“You heard me. I’ll talk to them. I’ll knock some sense into them.” Remus comes near the bunk bed again, leaning against it. “Kung hindi sila makikinig sa gusto mo, edi baka makinig sila sa gusto ko, diba? I just need to convince them and then you’ll be off riding into your dramatic-ass sunset and into that stage of your dreams.” [If they’re not gonna listen to you, then maybe they’ll listen to me, you know? I just need to convince them and then you’ll be off riding into your dramatic-ass sunset and into that stage of your dreams.]

Roman laughs internally and perhaps slightly externally. “Rem, it’s not that simple. And besides, even if you manage to do that, you have to remember--” he shrugs in defeat. “--I’m still failing. I can’t shift if I have failing grades.”

Remus’s open mouth freezes. He blinks and then the mouth closes into a little “o.” “Ay shet, oo nga pala noh.” [Ah shit, I forgot about that.]

Roman purses his lips and slumps against the railing too from where he is. Remus pulls away and begins pacing the entirety of the dorm, the knuckle of one finger between his teeth. Roman follows Remus with his eyes until Remus stops again, this time just short of the small bathroom. “Tulungan kita.” [I’ll help you.]

Roman raises an eyebrow and sluggishly lifts himself off from his railing, leaning back against his headboard. “Paano? [How?] I’m a lost cause--”

Remus tuts at him, walking closer yet again. “No, no, no, you are  _ not.  _ Okay, I’ll admit, you probably won’t get the juiciest ass in town, but I’ll still help you get one.”

“... I would just like to manifest how much I hate that metaphor but I think I get you, yeah.”

Remus giggles, walking over to the side of the bed again and starting to climb up beside Roman. “Rem, wha--”

“All I’m saying is--” he plops down and the bed creaks. Roman is a bit worried. “Are you going to get blindingly high grades? No, of course not. But I can still help you pass this thing, Roman. We’re gonna do our best, and  _ rest  _ in between, you self-neglecting himbo. Then we’re gonna ace these damned finals as if your life depends on it.” Remus pauses. “And come to think of it, it might actually depend on it.”

Roman rolls his eyes fondly. “Posible pa ba yun--” [Is that even possible--]

“Fine, do the computations. How much do you need to just pass?”

Roman begrudgingly pulls out his phone and punches in his scores in the calculator. He dismisses how Remus cringes at every new value he puts in. “I need a 90% or better, susginoo-- [Jesus Christ--]”

“ _ Aaaand  _ that’s exactly what we’re gonna be aiming for, hmm? Mahirap, pero andito naman ako. Kakayanin ‘yan. We’re gonna pass, tas kakausapin natin sina mama, tas lilipat ka na dun sa kursong gusto mo.” [ _ Aaaand  _ that’s exactly what we’re gonna be aiming for, hmm? It’s hard, but hey, I’m here, aren’t I? We can do this. We’re gonna pass, then we’re gonna talk to mama and papa, then you’re shifting to the course you want.]

Remus holds Roman’s gaze with a bout of seriousness. “Yung  _ totoong  _ gusto mo.” [What you  _ truly  _ want.]

There’s a pause until Roman’s voice wavers. “This entire thing would have been so much easier if I wasn’t so stupid--”

Remus grumbles exaggeratedly. “Here we go again with the whole ‘stupid’ business.” Remus slaps him lightly across the cheek.

“ _ Ow?! _ ”

“Ro. Di. Ka. Tanga.” [Ro. You. Are. Not. Stupid.] Remus grips Romans shoulders and shakes him. “Grades lang yan. Numero lang ‘yan. Ika nga ‘nung teacher ko dati nung muntik ako bumagsak sa Science: ‘Your grade is just a number.’ It doesn’t define you.” [That’s just grades. Nothing more than that. It’s like my teacher once said that one time I almost flunked Science: ‘Your grade is just a number.’ It doesn’t define you.]

Roman isn’t used to Remus being like this. In fact, he’s waiting for some sort of punchline, a joke, a hidden camera somewhere or for Remus’s emo and  _ jejemon _ friends to jump out from somewhere and yell “Sike!” But nothing comes. It’s just his brother and a very achingly genuine message.

This might actually be the first time Remus has gotten him to cry not out of sorrow or pain.

He hears a noise of surprise from Remus once he hugs him, and it takes a while before Remus returns the embrace. “Thank you.”

He can tell Remus is just as surprised as he is, if his stammers are anything to come off by. “Uhm… Yeah. Don’t sweat it, Ro-ro. I just wanted you to cry now rather than cry for the rest of your life, you know. I wouldn’t have handled that level of dramaticness.”

Roman laughs. “Sure you did, Rem.” The slightest movement from them makes the top bunk creak again, and they pull away swiftly. “Uh… Kailangan mo na ata bumaba. Pareho tayong taghirap. Wala tayong perang pambayad pag nasira ‘to.” [Uh… I think you should go down now. We’re both too broke to pay for this if it breaks.]

Remus smiles mischievously and bounces, making the bunk creak more and causing Roman to hold on to the railing in fear. “Rem naman oh!” [Damn it, Rem!]

Remus chortles for a good few seconds before he finally clambers down, tossing Roman a looser shirt and shorts from below. “We live in a suffocating dorm in the sweltering heat of Manila, Roman. Change up and get some sleep, hoe.”

Roman chuckles fondly and does what he’s told. His sleep that night is a peaceful one.

Years later Roman will find himself finally living out his life-long dream in the flesh, bowing in front of his graduate class and a wide audience, eyes on Remus and their parents seated right there at the heart of this sea of people.

On stage, in the middle of the ear-shattering applause and the overwhelming standing ovation, he mouths a “thank you” to his brother. And something about the way Remus stops clapping and smirks wider tells Roman that he got the message.

He makes a mental reminder to repay Remus someday. In any way he can.

**Author's Note:**

> Musta tayo diyan mga katoto? Thanks again to [@lollingtothemax](https://lollingtothemax.tumblr.com/) for once more helping me through this sksksk. Every little support and kudos is eternally appreciated. Pay me visit on Tumblr [@nerdy-emo-royal-dad](https://nerdy-emo-royal-dad.tumblr.com/)! Ingat, loves! <3


End file.
